


At the Dentist

by gremlins-came-and-got-me (Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Babsitter Stiles, Dentist Melissa, Evil Kate, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Child Abuse, Implied Rape/NonCon, M/M, Mostly alive Hales, PTSD Derek (poorly portrayed--sorry), Panic Attack, Traumatized Derek, Veterinarian Scott, Werewolves are known but not common knowledge, pre-Sterek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 03:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11119014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark/pseuds/gremlins-came-and-got-me
Summary: Stiles Stilinski runs a babysitting service for overwhelmed parents of supernatural tots. He specializes in werewolves. One day, a beautiful woman arrives at his office seeking his services. Excited to meet this woman’s child, Stiles isn’t sure if he should be as disappointed as he is when she doesn’t have a kid and instead wants him to accompany her brother to a dental appointment next door. Turns out, Derek, the brother, is terrified of dentists, and Stiles may not be as equipped to deal with a twenty-four year old as he is for a four-year old. Well, Stiles never says no to making money, and Derek’s not so bad to look at either. Maybe this appointment won’t be so bad?





	At the Dentist

**Author's Note:**

> Heed any and all tags.
> 
> Let me know if I missed any tags, thanks.
> 
> Warnings are in end notes.

* * *

 “I need you,” Stiles hears right before he tips his chair too far back. He flails his arms wildly, fighting and losing against gravity.

Right when he expects to slam against the floor and startle his mysterious visitor half to death, he feels a hand grasp his wrist and tug him upright.

“Thank you,” he says, examining the woman still holding his hand. She’s pretty in a fierce way with a sharp frown and graceful brows. Not to mention the lushness of her lips or her standout cheekbones. She notices his staring and drops his hand.

She must be something supernatural, Stiles thinks. He doesn’t usually get any other clients since the wards keep curious, human eyes away.

“Sorry,” he stammers, clearing his throat nervously. “You, uh, you said you need me?”

She nods, sitting on the corner of his desk and crossing her ankles. He does not stare at her dark-washed skinny jeans or her low cut black halter top with rhinestones arranged in the shape of a howling wolf head.

She coughs pointedly, and his eyes snap up to hers. Thankfully, she seems more amused than annoyed.

“Yes, Mr. Stilinski, I do indeed need you.”

“Okay,” he says, forcefully keeping his eyes on hers even when she leans toward him. “What do you need from me?”

She waves a hand around his office. “You offer babysitting services,” she says. He nods. “I need you to babysit for me.”

“Okay…?” He glances around to be sure, but nope, there are no tots or babies anywhere close to her. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but where is the child? I mean, I like to meet both clients to see if there’s any problems before I’m left in charge for a few hours.”

Yep. Stiles runs a one-on-one daycare for supernatural toddlers and their overwhelmed parents.

The woman grins at him and her eyes glow a distinct red. Alpha werewolf, Stiles bets.

A few moments of watching his visitor alpha-stare the wall culminates in a timid knock on the office door.

“Ah, excuse me,” he says to the woman, standing up and crossing to the door. When he throws it open, he’s expecting a tyke, rough and tumble and waiting to get back to his momma. Instead, he gets a man only an inch or so taller than him, hands clasped behind his back, scuffing a worn sneaker on the edge of the top step. He has thick brows pulled low over lidded eyes that do absolutely nothing to hide the cold, steel blue of his eyes.

Stiles does not stumble back but it’s a near thing, and he’s sure both werewolves can hear his heart hammering in his chest.

“This is the other client,” the woman says, and Stiles can hear the sarcasm dripping from her voice. The man’s ears go red and he scuffs his shoes harder. Stiles is alarmed to notice that some of the cement is rubbing away along with part of the sole of the shoe.

“Stop it, Derek,” the woman commands, and the man, Derek, freezes.

“Why don’t you come in?” Stiles offers weakly, gesturing to the child-sized table and chairs tucked into the corner. Derek scowls at it with his wolf eyes before joining the woman on Stiles’ desk.

“Sure,” Stiles mumbles, sarcastic, “sit on the one piece of furniture not designed for butts.” Even though he’s quiet, he knows werewolves have great hearing.

The woman throws her head back and laughs loudly. “I like him,” she declares.

Derek’s glare intensifies, but Stiles is glad to see that his eyes are back to their human color. Although, it’s a little like looking at the ocean with all the browns, greens, and blues swirling in his irises.

“You’re staring again,” the woman says suddenly.

“Can you blame me?” Stiles shrugs. Neither werewolf responds, but Derek’s ears go red again. Stiles clears his throat. “So, uh, what exactly are you expecting from me?”

“Babysitting,” the woman says.

“I don’t need to be babysat,” Derek grinds out.

“I would have to agree,” Stiles adds. “Typically, I work with two-to-five year olds.” He eyes Derek, “Pretty sure he’s not in that age range.”

“All I need you to do is take him to a dentist appointment next door.”

Because Stiles is watching Derek, he sees his face shutter, blanking. He’s shutting down, and Stiles wonders if it has something to do with the fact that he needs a dentist.

“Hey,” the woman moves so she can stare with her alpha eyes at Derek. “Hey, look at me. It’s okay. You trust Stiles. I trust him too. He’ll take as good care of you as I would.”

Derek shudders, lunging forward to bury his face against her neck and inhale deeply. She pats his back gently.

“Stiles, come here.” She sits down, Derek almost in her lap.

He obeys, mostly out of curiosity. He kneels next to them, aware that his scent can be taken as intrusive. He’s surprised when Derek moves from the woman to him, face tentatively tucking against his neck, a question seeking an answer.

Stiles bites down on the hysterical laughter threatening to bubble out of him at the feel of Derek’s nose trailing over his pulse point.

“I’m Laura Hale,” the woman says softly. “I’m Derek’s older sister.”

“And his alpha,” Stiles adds. Derek rumbles quietly, inhaling deeply before scooting off Stiles and leaning back against the desk.

Laura nods. “Derek has issues with—” she looks at her brother and he covers his ears “—dentists. Now, I know Dr. McCall personally, and I know that she would never hurt my brother intentionally.”

Dr. McCall’s dentistry next door is run by Stiles’ best friend’s mom, and Laura is right: Melissa McCall would never intentionally harm someone. Stiles also knows that she’s the only supernatural dentist in the Beacon Hills area.

“I have to meet with a coalition of other alphas during the only time Derek’s schedule works for this appointment.”

“Hence why you need me,” Stiles surmises.

Laura clicks her tongue and points at him. Stiles glances at Derek to see that he still has his hands covering his ears.

Just in case, he leans close to Laura and whispers, “Why doesn’t he like dentists?”

Laura also looks at her brother. Unlike Stiles though, she doesn’t whisper. “Do you remember Argent’s Dentistry?” Stiles nods. Scott’s first girlfriend Allison is an Argent. They all used to hang out at her aunt’s dentist office before going for milkshakes at the mall. Dr. Kate Argent hasn’t practiced in Beacon Hills since before they graduated high school.

“Turns out the Argents also hunt werewolves. They don’t care about any other supernatural beings. Kate Argent used to implant chips in her patients if they exhibited symptoms of lycanthropy.”

Stiles looks at Derek again. His ears are still covered, but now he’s crying silently, tears dripping from his face and splashing against his lap.

“Kate was his doctor,” Laura says sadly. “But, she did more than chip him—she pulled out all his baby fangs and repeatedly assaulted him. Since she was a hunter, she knew enough to mask the scent of what she was doing.” Laura’s hands are clenched, and Stiles can feel the anger rolling off her shoulders. “Derek’s behavior changed completely. A happy-go-lucky child, never down for long, he became moody and sullen.”

“Jesus,” Stiles breathes. He’s been trained to recognize the signs of abuse. He reaches out a shaking hand and puts it on Derek’s knee. Immediately, Derek crawls forward, curling against Laura again. He scents her almost desperately.

“Our mom was our alpha and she was able to parse through Derek’s memories until she found what Kate was doing. She killed Kate and in turn the alpha coalition let the Argents kill her. That’s how I came to be the Hale alpha.”

A horrifying story, to be sure. All the more reason Stiles feels he should look after Derek and make sure that the werewolf is okay during his dental appointment.

“What are some of his triggers?” he asks.

“Drills, clamps, certain perfumes,” Laura lists, ticking each one off on a finger.

“Words,” Derek mumbles. He straightens and crawls off Laura’s lap. “She used to talk to me when she was doing _those_ things. She called me a monster, said the best thing about me was the fact that I was so tame for a monster. She liked when I made noise, but too loud and everyone in the waiting room would hear.” he stands up and walks to the corner. He folds himself down until he can fit in one of the kid-sized chairs.

Laura and Stiles stand up, Laura dusting off her pants while Stiles tries to pretend his foot did not fall asleep from five minutes on the floor.

“I need someone he trusts with him or else he might flip out and injure someone.”

Stiles shakes his head. “He seems more likely to go catatonic, and I don’t know if he’ll be able to be brought back from that easily. May I ask why he trusts me?”

“Derek works with Scott McCall at the vet clinic. Scott’s told many stories about you. Also,” she winks conspiratorially at Stiles, “he likes the way you smell.”

“Laura!” Derek snaps. “We weren’t going to talk about that!” Laura apologizes halfheartedly.

Stiles smiles amused. “You like the way I smell?” he asks just to see Derek’s ears turn red again. It’s cute, Stiles thinks. “So, Scotty’s been spreading rumors about me, eh?”

“Our aunt Emily likes you too,” Derek mutters. He refuses to look up from where he’s working his claws into his leg. “At the library when you help with Story Hour.”

“Derek Hale, you stop that right now!” Laura’s eyes bleed red and she stomps over to her brother to rip his hand away from his leg. Derek ducks his head further and mumbles something Stiles can’t hear. Laura frowns down at him. “Don’t apologize,” she says. “Look, your appointment is in a few minutes. Go next door with Stiles. If you still don’t think you can do it, come back here and wait for me.”

Derek makes a soft sound of assent and hugs Laura. Then, he stands and walks back to Stiles. Laura reaches into her back jeans pocket and pulls out a wad of cash that she hands to Stiles.

“There’s enough there for his dental costs and your fee.” She opens the door, pausing to look at both Stiles and Derek. “Take good care of my brother,” she says. “I’m in Derek’s phone. Call me if something goes wrong.” And then she is gone, the door slamming shut behind her.

Stiles waits a full minute, watching Derek stare almost sullenly at the door.

“We should really go see Melissa now,” Stiles says gently, guiding Derek with a hand on his back. Derek balks at the door, refusing to touch it. He lets out a whine low in his throat. “No,” Stiles says sternly. “We’re going and that’s that. We need to go see Melissa now.” He’s using his authoritative voice, hoping that it mimics enough of Laura’s alpha tone to have Derek at least somewhat obey him.

It works, barely, to get them out of the door (which Stiles locks behind him—Beacon Hills may be a sleepy town, but it’s a sleepy town with a few sticky-fingered opportunists) and fifty feet to the left. Derek freezes again when Stiles goes to push open the tinted glass door of McCall’s Family Dentistry.

Derek whines again, tugging at Stiles’ shirt, trying to turn him back toward his own business.

“Stop that,” Stiles commands. Derek shakes his head and yanks harder. Stiles is afraid that he is going to rip his shirt off so he claps his hands by Derek’s ear. Not loudly, but Derek still lets go to cover his ears.

“Even if you don’t go to your appointment, you still need to cancel it. Okay?” Derek nods. “Then let’s go.” Stiles finally opens the door without issue and they step inside.

The receptionist behind the desk, a pretty Asian gal with a chipper smile and twinkling eyes, greets them. Her name tag reads ‘Kira,’ and Stiles is almost positive it’s the same girl Scott’s been waxing poetic about for the last week and a half.

“Hi,” Kira says for what must be at least the third time if her faltering smile is anything to go by. Derek scowls at her and she winces before focusing on Stiles. “What can I do for you today?”

“Derek Hale for a 1:30 appointment,” Stiles says. Derek glares harder and nods.

“Ah,” Kira says, tapping at her keyboard. “I see you are supposed to be accompanied by your alpha.” She eyes Stiles suspiciously. “Is this your alpha?”

“I was hired by his sister to accompany him today,” Stiles explains.

Again, Kira looks to Derek, who nods.

“She didn’t want me to come alone,” he says softly. Kira seems to hear him just fine while Stiles, standing next to the werewolf, as to strain his ears. Kira must be another supernatural. Makes sense. Melissa went back to school to become a dentist for her son, Stiles’ best friend and apparently Derek’s boss, Scott. It’s logical then that she would want to hire other supernatural creatures. Melissa is awesome.

“My aunt Emily trusts him,” Derek continues, even softer if possible. “Laura trusts him.”

“Do you?” Kira asks, and that is the root of it, isn’t it? Stiles bites his tongue to keep from blurting out that Derek does indeed trust him.

Derek glances at Stiles. The corners of his mouth turn down. “I do,” he whispers.

Kira doesn’t look convinced but she says, “Have a seat and I’ll let Dr. McCall know that you’re here.”

Derek mumbles something that vaguely resembles a thank you before sidling into the empty corner and sitting facing the whole waiting area. The other patients ignore him, some of them reading books or magazines while others stare blankly at a muted television playing a day-time soap opera. Stiles sits next to Derek and holds out his hand. Derek eyes it warily before gently grasping it. Stiles tries not to react to the fact that Derek’s claws are out.

Derek, of course, hears his heartbeat racing and pulls back with a grunt.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles says. “I know you won’t hurt me.” He offers his hand again and reluctantly, Derek retakes it. He keeps his other hand clenched against his side. “Thank you.”

Derek grunts again, but Stiles notices that his claws retract completely.

Shortly after that, Melissa calls Derek back.

“So,” she says, as they walk down a narrow hallway branching off into several exam rooms, “I see you’ve met the son I didn’t birth. How’s he treating you?” Derek’s ears go red. Stiles is beginning to think it’s how he blushes when he’s embarrassed.

“We’ve only just met,” Derek says clearly. Stiles stares at him. Where was this enunciation with Kira?

“Oh?” Melissa asks, a bit too innocently if the way the red spreads down Derek’s face is any indication. Red ears, red cheeks. Definitely blushing. Stiles still doesn’t know if it’s because he’s embarrassed or not. What he wouldn’t give to have a super-nose right now.

“I could have sworn Scott said you knew each other?” Derek doesn’t respond, and Melissa immediately looks contrite. “I’m sorry,” she says, “let’s just get  started.” She shows them to a room that looks like the dozen others they passed. “Did you want to say your mantra?”

Derek shakes his head. He crawls onto the chair and lies back. His claws are out again, and Stiles thinks if his sense of smell was half as good as Derek’s, he would be able to smell the fear and misery wafting off him.

“Okay, so today you’re here to get a tooth pulled.” Derek flinches and his eyes glow blue. “What’s wrong with the tooth that extraction is your only option?”

“It broke,” Derek mumbles through a mouthful of fangs. “I was eating and it broke. The new one won’t come in until you take this one out.”

Melissa nods. “But, Derek, I’ll need to use the drill to remove the tooth—your bones are too strong for just the forceps and the extractor. Are you okay with that?”

The only response she gets is a high pitched whine. Derek’s hyperventilating, Stiles realizes, and he scrambles to the chair, climbing into Derek’s lap and leaning his chest over his head. Instinctively, Derek turns so his ear is pressed to where Stiles knows his heartbeat is. It’s a little fast, but he forces himself to breathe deeply and steadily, bringing it back to a manageable rate.

Derek whimpers softly but when Stiles pulls away, he grabs him with completely human hands.

“I’m going to put a stool here for Stiles,” Melissa tells them as she sets it down just off Derek’s left elbow. “The tooth is on the right side?” Derek nods. “Stiles, if you can just hold on.” Melissa runs from the room.

“I’m sorry,” Derek rumbles under Stiles. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He keeps repeating those two words over and over again. Stiles pulls back enough to cup Derek’s face in his hands.

“Hey,” he says, “look at me.” Derek opens his still-electric blue eyes. “You’re okay. You’re safe. When Melissa comes back, we can tell her it won’t work today and you’ll just reschedule for when Laura can be here.”

Derek shakes his head, blinking tears away. His eyes start flashing between human hazel and werewolf beta. A non-innocent beta. But it is abundantly clear to Stiles that despite the color of his eyes, Derek is only a danger to himself.

“Laura needs me to be less dependent on her,” Derek says. “The coalition of alphas wants to ask her to join their ranks. None of their betas need their alphas as much as I do.” He covers his eyes, and Stiles knows it’s to hide the frustrated tears he is crying.

“Has Laura told you about the coalition asking her to join?”

“No,” Derek says. “I overheard them when they met with her at our house. I was supposed to help Aunt Emily at the library but the appearance of several alphas made me uneasy, so I hid in my room.”

“Were they aware you were there?”

“Yes, that’s why they wanted to meet with her today so that I wouldn’t be there.”

That’s—Stiles doesn’t know what exactly it is but it’s obvious, to him at least, that this coalition is bad news for Hales.

He climbs off Derek and sits on the stool. Derek lets his gaze follow him.

“What?” Derek asks after a long moment of silence.

Stiles shrugs. “I guess I’m just outraged. I know werewolf culture is different from human culture. I _know_ it, okay? My best friend is a bitten werewolf and we had so many missteps with the learning curve. That said, I find it extremely appalling that the alpha coalition would actually see fit to make another alpha choose between the well-being of her beta and a meeting that honestly could have been at any other time.”

Derek looks like he wants to respond, but Melissa walks back into the room, a familiar face following her. Derek’s nostrils flare and he turns white. There’s no doubt he remembers Allison Argent even though it’s been years.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles hisses. Allison looks hurt. Stiles cares, but Laura hired him to look after her brother. Allison is not helping Derek at all. In fact, it almost looks like Derek is going to throw up.

“Allison specializes in werewolf anesthesia,” Melissa explains. “She’s worked for me for a few years now.”

Derek whimpers. “She’s wearing scent blockers,” he rasps and then vomits all over the front of his t-shirt and jeans.

“Okay, we’re officially leaving,” Stiles says, angered. “I know you mean well, Melissa, but really? An Argent?”

“Argent?” Melissa repeats. “No, Stiles, honey, Allison’s a Lahey.”

“Lahey?” It’s Stiles’ turn to be an echo. “Isaac Lahey from high school? You married Isaac Lahey?” He is incredulous. Allison dumped Scott for that scrawny grave-digger in junior year, right before Kate stopped working—was killed by Laura and Derek’s mom.

Allison straightens, and her face hardens. “Isaac and I love each other. Yes, I married Isaac Lahey. And yes, I’m wearing scent blockers—most patients find it unsettling that I smell like various plants that could be used to incapacitate them.”

“Well good job,” Stiles spits. He is furious with Melissa for springing Allison on Derek. He wonders if it had been Laura with Derek instead of him, would Melissa have alerted the Hales to the fact that she was bringing in a specialist.

It doesn’t matter. Melissa owes Derek a huge apology (and he might owe Allison a small one—he knows she’s not Kate, but he still remembers the way she idolized her aunt).

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out today, Derek,” Melissa says. “Please don’t wait too long to reschedule.”

Stiles grunts in annoyance. He knows, as does Melissa, that there are no other dentists Derek can go to. It’s not fair for Derek.

“Let go get cleaned up.” He guides Derek to his feet, worried when the werewolf wavers unsteadily. He wrinkles his nose at the overwhelming stench of bile. Surprisingly, Derek appears unaffected by the smell of his upchuck. Then again, the shaky way he’s moving and the glassy look in his eyes tells Stiles that Derek is in shock.

Stiles needs to get him out of here now.

Despite lacking in reaction, it is easy to guide Derek down the hall past a shocked Kira and back to Stiles’ office. He unlocks the door, relocking it behind them immediately.

Derek stumbles where Stiles pushes him. Never has Stiles been so glad that his dad insisted on renovating the little apartment upstairs. Stiles keeps a couple of changes of clothing, some toiletries, and an impressive stash of chocolate up here.

He manages to get Derek into the bathroom where he strips him down to his boxers and sets him up in the tiny tub. He makes sure the water is neither too hot nor too cold before he goes off in search of clothes that will fit Derek.

The werewolf is broader in the shoulders than he is and has maybe twenty to forty pounds of muscle on him. His dad’s worn academy t-shirt should do fine. For pants, Stiles digs out a ratty old pair of sweats he forgot he even owned. They look stupid but Stiles is ninety-nine-point-nine percent positive that Derek won’t be able to fit into the skinny jeans hanging over the back of the lone recliner kept up here.

Stiles returns to the bathroom to find Derek shaking underneath the spray of the showerhead. A quick test shows the water is still warm but Derek’s skin is like ice. Stiles increases the temperature gradually. It doesn’t help.

Derek needs his alpha. Now. Screw the coalition.

Stiles digs out Derek’s phone from his discarded jeans, unlocking it with a simple swipe across the screen. He opens the contacts list, unsurprised to find that there are very few names. Laura, Cora, Dad, Uncle Peter, Aunt Emily, and Scott McCall/Vet.

Stiles punches the call icon by Laura’s number, lifting the phone to his ear. Laura answers on the second ring, a panicked, “Derek?”

“How soon can you get here?”

“Stiles, where’s Derek? Put him on the phone now.”

Stiles doesn’t think Derek can respond to Laura right now. He opens his mouth to tell her that when he realizes that she is probably using her alpha-voice on him, but since he’s human and not part of her pack, it’s not affecting him. Derek, though, should be able to obey the voice, as far as Laura’s commands may go.

“He’s in shock right now. I need you to talk to him.”

“What happened?” Laura demands. “Goddamn it, Stiles. I trusted you. _Derek_ trusted you.”

“I’ll explain fully when you get here. For now, I need you to talk to Derek to see if you can get him to respond.”

He maneuvers Derek out of the spray and wraps a few towels around him before pressing the phone to his ear and settling him into the recliner. Derek shudders once, eyes going electric blue. A few moments later, his eyes fade back to hazel and he stands up. He keeps the phone against his ear as he moves slowly, using the towels to dry perfunctorily before one-handedly pulling on the sweatpants. He forgoes the shirt and heads down the stairs. Stiles shuts off the showerhead and grabs the discarded shirt before following Derek downstairs.

He unlocks his front door, after making sure that there are no surprises out there. Then, he goes about laying down a mat with pillows and blankets and setting a kettle on to boil for tea.

He peruses his choices, wondering if werewolves even like tea or coffee. Derek taps his shoulder and hands him the phone.

“Yes?” he says, listening to the heavy breathing on the other end.

“I’m nearly there,” Laura says harshly. “Can you keep him calm for me?” She sounds panicked, less like she’s angry.

“Yes, I’ll stay with Derek,” Stiles says. “Does he like tea at all? Chamomile? Earl Grey?”

“Dandelion. He likes dandelion tea. And, Stiles, I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay. I understand. Look, my tea is ready to steep. I need to go. Do you want Derek again?”

“No, no. I’m almost to you. Just hang up.”

The phone goes silent, so Stiles lays it on the kitchen counter. His water isn’t quite ready yet, so he goes back to the front room where he finds Derek on the mat, curled on his side, the blankets pulled over him so that he is cocooned within them. The shirt is missing, so Stiles presumes Derek put it on finally. He blinks sleepily at Stiles when he crouches down.

“Hey there, big guy,” Stiles says softly—his nap-time voice. “You up for some tea?”

Derek rouses enough to sit up and nod (and indeed, he did put the shirt on). “Dandelion?” he asks, voice rough.

“I have a box. Do you want to stay on the cot here or move to my office chair?” Derek thinks it over before pointing at Stiles’ desk. He lets Stiles help him up and then he drops into the chair. He cringes, covering his ears, and Stiles is puzzled until he hears the kettle start whistling.

He goes back to the kitchen to set up a couple of mugs with dandelion tea and one with lemon for himself. When he returns with Derek’s mug, he finds the werewolf staring at the door, his eyes blazing blue.

“Laura’s here,” he says quietly, accepting the mug and immediately sipping at it despite Stiles’ warning cry of “Hot!”

Stiles opens the door and jumps back to let a galloping Laura thunder past him. He slams and locks the door before following more sedately.

Bt the time he catches up to her, she’s curled on the floor, wrapped around her brother, nose buried against his neck. Derek’s empty mug sits in the middle of Stiles’ desk.

They break apart just as Stiles goes to sit in his now-empty chair.

“More tea?” Derek asks, and Stiles swears he sounds happy.

“Sure. Tea for you too, Laura?”

Laura shakes her head, going back to scenting Derek, less desperately.

Stiles retrieves the second mug of dandelion tea, which Derek downs as fast as the first. Then, he looks sad when Laura tells him no more.

“Making more tea isn’t a problem,” Stiles says. Derek’s whole face lights up.

Laura flashes her eyes and Derek deflates.

“Sorry, but if left to his own, Derek would drink his weight in dandelion tea.” She gives her brother a fond if somewhat worried smile. “He’s always been that way. I remember when he was five, our dad made three pitchers of tea. Only one was dandelion, but Derek still drank them all.”

Derek blushes, ears, cheeks, and neck.

Stiles’ phone on his desk, the landline his dad said he’d need for his business, rings. He scoops it up, mouthing ‘Sorry’ to the Hales.

“ _Stiles’ SuperCare_ , Stiles speaking.”

“Stiles, it’s Melissa. Is Derek Hale still with you?”

Stiles looks at Laura, who nods. “Yes, he is. May I ask why?”

Melissa sighs. “Allison explained her connection to the Hales. I should have asked Derek before bringing her in. I would like to apologize to him if he will let me.”

“I can check.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and motions to Derek. After a quick glance at his sister, who gives him an encouraging nod, he stands up and holds out his hand for the phone.

Stiles goes to the kitchen while Derek talks to Melissa. Laura, surprisingly, follows Stiles.

“Thank you,” she says. “For being there for Derek. I’m glad it was you. He really does trust you.”

The pieces suddenly snap into place. Derek Hale is attracted to him. How and why Stiles does not know.

Stiles picks up his cell phone, more to play with than anything. He’s nervous, wondering if he should ask Laura or wait until Derek is free to talk about Derek’s crush on him.

“Look,” Laura says, “I know you’ve realized Derek loves you. What I need to know is how you feel about him.”

“I’ve known him about an hour,” Stiles says. “I understand the first five minutes are extremely important for a werewolf, but I’m human and I like to be wooed with conventional means.”

“Stiles,” Derek says quietly from behind him. Stiles turns. “Dr. McCall is going to take my tooth out now since Laura is here. It will take about two hours for the new tooth to grow in.” Derek drops his gaze to his bare feet where he is scuffing one foot over the other. His ears turn red. “I was wondering if you wanted to—to do something with me—after?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Stiles asks. He knows that’s exactly what Derek is doing. He’s just confused. The way he has read Derek, he’s nowhere ready to do this.

“I really want to,” Derek says, which maybe answers Stiles’ question.

“Tell you what,” Stiles says. “Go, get your new tooth. If you still feel up to it after, you know where I am.” He digs a card out of his wallet and gives it to Laura. “This is my cell number. Call me.”

Derek strides forward to snatch the card out of his sister’s hand. He also takes her phone. Stiles’ phone starts trilling and Derek grins at him, waiting for him to answer it.

“Do you want to get some coffee with me?”

Stiles blinks. “Sure,” he says. “5:00 work for you?”

“5:00’s perfect.” Derek hangs up, a fading blush staining his cheeks.

“Go to the place on the corner of Rose and 6th,” Laura advises. “They’ve got a wide selection of coffees and teas to select from.” She winks at Stiles.

“Including dandelion?” he asks.

“Yes,” Derek answers. “But.” He sounds sad and hesitant. “It’s owned by my uncle. If we go there, he will bug us.”

Stiles guesses there’s more to it than that, if the look Derek give Laura is anything to go by.

“Okay, so not your uncle’s coffee shop.” He thinks for a moment, running through all the eateries he knows in and around Beacon Hills. “How about that new Japanese-Korean fusion tea house?”

Derek shakes his head. “They don’t serve dandelion tea.”

“Oh my God,” Laura bursts out laughing as both Derek and Stiles stare at her. “Only Peter’s place has dandelion tea. Go for Italian, burgers, pizza. Hell, go to the new bubble tea place that just opened yesterday. Just go somewhere together!”

“Movies?” Stiles asks. Derek grimaces. “Diner on 4th?”

“Too salty.” Laura nods in agreement.

“The dentist?” Stiles suggest, carefully.

Derek’s eyes widen and he nods. “As long as I don’t have another panic attack,” he says.

“Perfect,” Stiles says, over Laura’s squeak of “You had a _panic attack_!”

“Wait, what? You had a panic attack? Why?”

“The anesthesiologist,” Derek says. “I’m better now. I can go get my tooth taken out now.”

“Are you sure? You can wait. I can find some numbing plants that would work. Baby werewolves can still suffer from teething pain.”

Laura grabs Derek by his borrowed t-shirt and growls, “Panic attack, anesthesiologist. Why?”

Derek blinks at her, and Stiles can sense his rising panic. Stupidly, he steps between an angered alpha and her beta.

“The anesthesiologist is Allison Lahey,” Stiles explains. “She’s related to Kate Argent.” He feels Derek’s nose touch the back of his neck. He knows, despite Derek’s bravado, he’s not getting this tooth pulled today. The way Laura’s eyes have gone red and she keeps growling under her breath tells Stiles she has come to the same conclusion. Now they just have to convince Derek.

Stiles can’t think of any argument Derek might listen to, not coming from him.

Laura offers a solution by grabbing Derek by the back of his neck, nudging Stiles out of her way at the same time, and growling in his ear.

Derek whimpers, flashing his eyes in response to whatever she said. “I’m sorry, alpha,” he says, wrapping his arms around her. “I’ll behave. I promise.”

Laura nuzzles him, scenting him. Stiles watches with interest—it’s not often that he gets to witness alpha-beta pack interaction this up close and personal.

After a sufficient amount of time has been devoted to nonverbal communication, Derek pulls back from Laura. He bows first to her and then to Stiles.

“My sister is going to reschedule my appointment for tomorrow. After I heal, I would like to get coffee with you if you are still amendable.”

“That actually sounds like a plan,” Stiles says. “There is a new-age coffee house in Redding that allows patrons to mix their own blends. Would that be acceptable as a location?”

“It would.”

“Very well, Derek.” Stiles grabs Derek’s phone and shoots himself a text. Then he uses his phone to text Derek’s. “This is my number. Call me once your tooth is completely healed.”

Derek doesn’t respond, staring wide-eyed at his phone as Laura ushers him to the door.

“Thank you, Stiles,” she calls over her shoulder.

“Don’t mention it,” Stiles says to his closed front door.

Numbly, he walks to his office chair and sinks into it. He feels like a whirlwind ripped through his life. He has a date for tomorrow with a werewolf obsessed with dandelion tea, said werewolf’s vomit-stained clothes are still upstairs, and Stiles is certain he was possibly being stalked prior to their meeting today.

Still, Derek seems harmless enough and he truly is adorable with that blush.

It would be remiss if Stiles didn’t even give him a chance.

Stiles settles more firmly into his chair and kicks his feet up onto the desk. To think this all came about because Laura startled him enough to make him fall off his chair. To be needed indeed.

It’s a nice feeling.

~ Fin ~

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **Warnings:** Kate Argent uses her position as a dentist catering to the supernatural to molest Derek. Talia kills Kate and then is allowed to be killed by the Argents as retaliation.
> 
> **Note:** I tried researching tooth extraction (hence the names of the tools used), but the pictures accompanying the article were…too much for me, so I apologize for any severe inaccuracies (the inclusion of the drill is because the extractor and the forceps would heal too quickly in a werewolf, not because it is necessary to the procedure if performed on a human—according to my limited research).
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://1989dreamer.tumblr.com/), if interested.  
> Thanks for reading.


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